


Not Good Enough (For You)

by zara2148



Series: Fethry Joins F.O.W.L. [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F.O.W.L. is a toxic work environment, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Self-Esteem Issues, Set after Lost Harp of Mervana but No Spoilers, for both of them really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zara2148/pseuds/zara2148
Summary: “You’re the unnoticed member of the Duck-McDuck family. Isn’t it time you had a chance to prove yourself?”Or..."Classic dum-dum. What kind of idiot doesn't know who they're working for?"Or, how Fethry Duck accidentally joined F.O.W.L.
Relationships: Fethry Duck/Steelbeak
Series: Fethry Joins F.O.W.L. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709911
Comments: 33
Kudos: 138





	Not Good Enough (For You)

Huey was placing Isabella Finch's journal back in Uncle Scrooge's study when he spotted the tin can phone there, now connected to nothing. Scrooge held on to everything in the mansion, even seemingly useless things, on the grounds that it may one day come in handy again. 

It was one reason why Trash Day could be such a nightmare, though Scrooge was starting to learn how to let things go...

Huey found Della and Donald unpacking their gear off the sub, hanging up suits and boxing equipment until it was ready to be used again. "Uncle Donald? Mom? Do you know how to get in touch with Cousin Fethry? I think he'd love to hear all about Mervana."

"No, sorry, sweetie. I haven't heard anything from him since he rode off on the back of that... giant... fish..." Della shuddered in remembered revulsion.

"Mom, it was a krill."

"A fish is still a fish by any other name."

"You also seemed fine with Mitzy at the time."

"I was too busy thinking about all the Moonlanders we had to beat up."

Donald sighed and turned away from a crate to answer Huey’s question. “I haven’t heard from him either since then.” He shrugged. "But that's normal for Fethry. He either calls every five minutes or he gets so wrapped up in something we don't hear from him for six months."

"Doesn't he have a cell phone we could call?”

"Knowing Fethry, it would just get dropped in the ocean." There was a reason Scrooge only trusted Fethry with a tin can after one too many busted phones.

Huey’s beak twisted in discomfort. “But what if he got in trouble? What if he needed our help?”

Donald let out a breath, more frustrated with himself than anyone else, even Fethry. He knelt in front of Huey and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Fethry is…” Cuckoo bananas really hadn’t been the right thing to say to Huey, not when Donald could see the similarities between the two of them. Unsure how else to finish that sentence, he tried again.

“Fethry is who he is. But he’s also a grown adult capable of making decisions and taking care of himself. If he ever needs us, he knows where we are.”

Della grinned proudly. “He’s a part of the Duck family. Surviving is what we do.”

Uncle Donald and Mom weren’t wrong about that. Cousin Fethry had survived alone in a collapsing sea base for years. He knew the Junior Woodchuck guidebook from cover to cover, just as Huey did. He was better prepared than most to face trouble when it found him.

"Okay, I'll just make sure to write down all my observations about Mervana to share with him when he gets in touch."

Donald gave Huey a smile. "I'm sure he'll love that."

***

_“Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”_

It was an old refrain at this point. 

The last job interview he had, Fethry had spent a full half-hour talking about the eating habits of krill and the merits of singing when asked about his team management skills. 

The interview before that, he spoke briefly about the endless silence of the ocean when asked how he dealt with workplace difficulties. He’d been too quiet after that question.

And the interview before that… well, he didn’t think that room was ever going to be the same.

Fethry’s laptop was old. Wires were sticking out and duct tape was barely holding the screen together. He browsed through the listings for scientists on Quacked In, tweaking his cover letter and resume slightly for each.

Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe he should try for a slightly smaller position at a lab, like a custodian! He had experience keeping things in custody! And then he could work his way up from there. 

But the little Donalds had such faith in him. They believed he could be a great scientist. Fethry wasn’t going to let them down. He never really realized until it was too late, but Fethry knew he had a habit of letting his family down.

Gladstone had offered to help, after that big event with purple people from the sky… ahh, yes, the invasion! But Fethry knew how often people tried to get close to his cousin to use his luck. Family shouldn’t do that.

The next listing didn’t quite catch his eye. But Fethry was at the point of applying for everything that came up for “scientist” and read through what little there was.

_“WANTED: Skilled scientists for private company in Duckburg. Duties will vary. Flexible work schedule, late nights occasionally required. Must be able to roll with the punches.”_

He had no expectations that it would progress to a job offer. How he chose to look at was that he was doing really well on reaching his goal of 100 job rejections. He’d read all about re-framing your objectives for positivity!

Once he reached 100, well, he might as well try for 200 rejections then.

He reviewed his resume and cover letter on the final submission screen. He clicked “Send.”

Then he moved onto the next listing and thought no more of it.

***

F.O.W.L.’s computer settings were extremely sensitized when it came to tracking the movements and activities of the Duck-McDuck clan. They knew when Hubert Duck received a new merit badge, or when Dewford Duck uploaded another video to his overlooked Insta, or when Llewellyn bought a soda that wasn’t Pep branded.

Any diversion from or progress in the Duck’s family’s normal routine could be significant. That’s why they monitored it all.

So when a member of the Duck family applied for one of their vacant positions, it got noticed. Alarms went off, alerting the highest-ranking members in F.O.W.L. command.

Just ten minutes after the application was received, Bradford clicked through it on his laptop.

F.O.W.L. could just ignore this. Stay away from the Duck family until they were more ready to move out in the open. It would be a sensible move.

But there was potential here he couldn’t overlook.

Fethry Duck was one of the harder members to track ever since the McDuck SubLab crumbled into an undersea abyss. Satellite images last had him riding some sort of kaiju across the ocean, which was just typical when it came to the Duck-McDuck family.

When the moon invaders came they had made many mistakes, such as caring more about the acknowledgment of their perceived superiority than how they could exploit the Earth. But they had been right that it was better to have all members of that family accounted for when it came to global-scale plans.

Having Fethry under constant watch at F.O.W.L. would leave Gladstone as the most transient variable. And the lottery winnings and sweepstakes prizes he left in his wake would make him infinitely easier to track.

Fethry was also one of the more controllable members of the Duck family. Neither misfortune nor ostentatious fortune dogged his steps. He didn’t question intention and he didn’t try to stir up trouble for his amusement. He was so lacking in ambition that he stayed in a lonely janitorial position for almost five years. If he was taken to a lab and given every reason to stay, he likely would do so without seeing anything amiss.

His goal was to steal the world right out from under Scrooge. Why not start by stealing a member of the man’s family? One Scrooge was unlikely to miss for quite some time, given his avoidance of Fethry’s company.

Yet for a duck who didn’t believe in handouts, it said something that Scrooge still cared enough about Fethry to give him a string of jobs that he more or less performed adequately. He’d prefer it not come to threats, especially since harm to his family made Scrooge predictably savage. But if worse came to worse… better to have a hostage than do without.

And if he was useless? Disposing of him would be no hardship.

He clicked “Accept” and composed a brief response, suggesting a range of times that Fethry could visit a front location in downtown Duckberg.

After opening up the email and reading through it, Fethry squealed and picked out the earliest possible time. 

***

Fethry hummed as he walked inside the address the email gave him. It was a plain building, notable only for its pristine white exterior that seemed all too blank.

He’d dressed up nice for the occasion. His red jacket was replaced with a slightly frayed and browned business suit jacket. His tie was a piece of dried kelp that Mitzy had picked out for him. She always had the best eye when it came to kelp. And his cap was still present, keeping his thoughts toasty warm!

Yet his throat felt clogged and simultaneously too dry. The papers in his hand would be wrinkled if he clutched them any tighter. There was a heavy feeling in his chest that told him he’d be out of here soon enough, and he would need to try his luck elsewhere.

A duck with a dirty face and ruffled hair sat behind the visitor’s desk. Her name tag read “Ample.”

He approached her without his usual bounce. “Hello, I’m here for an interview.”

She nodded and glanced through the schedule. “Fethry Duck?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“The director is ready to see you now. Go through the double doors over there.”

He dipped forward in an awkward half-bow, unsure if a handshake would be too presumptuous. “Thank you!”

He pushed his way through the double doors. The room was in grey shadow, a large desk slightly off toward one of the corners. Two chairs were in front of the desk, facing the figure behind it.

The shadows slightly obscured the person behind the desk. He could make out a shape but no features. 

The shadow turned to him. “Ah, thank you for coming. Please take a seat.”

Fethry grabbed one of the chairs, shifting his paper copy of his resume as he looked at his interviewer up close.

Oh, he knew this vulture! He worked with Uncle Scrooge before! His name was buzzing around in the back of Fethry’s skull, waiting to be grabbed hold of…. what was it, what was it…?

“Bradley!”

“It’s Bradford,” he corrected in a cold tone. 

Fethry slumped back in his seat, feeling small. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

Bradford did not take the time to acknowledge what he said. He sat “So, Fethry Duck. Scrooge’s nephew.”

“Yes.”

“You hold no degrees, no certifications that would qualify you for a scientific position.”

“... no.” Fethry knew how much those pieces of paper meant to people. He sunk into his chair, almost wishing it could swallow him up, the way the ocean did…

...and that was not a train of thought he needed to be boarding right now. Fethry stepped off a mental platform, letting it whiz by.

Bradford continued, neither noticing nor caring about Fethry’s inner world and its struggles. “And yet, you thought you could apply here, for a scientific position with us.” He stood up and started to circle around Fethry. “Do you know what we do here, Fethry?”

“Science?”

“Among other things.” Bradford paused behind Fethry. Fethry couldn’t quite bring himself to turn and look at him. “What we do here... let’s just say we're out to change the world.”

Bradford resumed his circle and came to a stop in front of Fethry. He let silence reign for a few seconds before speaking. “And Fethry Duck? We’re willing to give you the chance to join our ranks.”

Fethry had to swallow down dry disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Fethry’s hands were clammy as he held out his stacks of papers. His grip wasn’t shaking, but his limbs felt hollow. “You don’t even want to look at my resume first?”

“I’ve already seen it.”

He let his arms fall to his sides. His voice came out small, as if he was once again speaking from the bottom of the ocean. “Why me?”

Silence returned. Bradford considered him over his beak.

“You’re the unnoticed member of the Duck-McDuck family. Isn’t it time you had a chance to prove yourself?”

Bradford wasn’t wrong. He wanted that chance. But the implication that he was only getting this job because of his family...

Well. Wasn’t that how he got every job he ever had?

Bradford turned away from him and loomed his way back behind his desk. “Mind you, the job still isn’t much. You’ll be working in a lab on your own projects, yes. But you will remain under direct supervision for the time being. Before undertaking any venture, you are to submit a full report that outlines expected costs and outcomes, in accordance with our guidelines.”

He sat down, his back hunched to allow him to continue looming from a lower height. “The pay is minimum wage, but you can work your way up through experience. Food and board will be provided on-site, so that’s two fewer things you have to worry about.”

Fethry absent-mindedly fiddled with his kelp tie, his attention otherwise on Bradford as he continued.

“As you may have surmised, your work is to be considered top secret. For the time being, we will ask that you remain in the facilities to better learn your responsibilities. There is to be no contact with the outside world without prior approval. Otherwise, you put ourselves and the work we do at risk.”

“If you accept the job under these terms, a car will be dispatched to pick up you and any belongings you choose to bring tomorrow morning.” Bradford steepled his fingers and looked through Fethry. “Do you accept these conditions?” 

Fethry had forgotten he hadn’t said yes to anything yet. He wasn’t sure how he got so caught up that he missed that.

He could bring his team with him, their jar was extremely portable. But taking this job would mean saying goodbye to Mitzy for a while… hopefully, she would understand. 

He nodded, then said for emphasis, “Yes.”

“Well, then. Welcome, Fethry Duck, to…” Bradford paused again, his words trailing off into familiar silence. “... well, we’ll just call it your new place of work.”

***

There wasn’t a whole lot to do at their headquarters between missions. The funnest thing to do around here was to play all the arcade games after the kids had gone home for the day.

However, the last time Steelbeak did that he blew an entire paycheck and ended up with only 20 tickets to show for it—not even enough to trade-in for a piece of candy. That didn’t make him stupid, that made the games _rigged_.

Now he stuck to the actual secret parts of their secret lair, wandering the halls. His wallet stayed full and fat, but the time between missions dragged on and on.

The gun course was fun, but there was only so much offtime an agent was allowed there. Spend too much time shooting things and command would send you over to their quack shrink.

The rec room was okay, but he’d be fighting every off-duty Eggman there if he wanted to pick which channel to watch on the sole TV. Not that he wouldn’t win, but his time in the prison rec room, and the underground fighting ring’s rec room before that, taught him that victory wasn’t worth it if you couldn’t find any good shows playing.

Which is how he often ended up doing what he did right now, trailing after Heron down to the labs. He’d watch her and watch the other scientists, trying to see how what they did tied into F.O.W.L.’s big ol’ villain schemes.

Did he always understand what she was working on? No. Did she ever really try to explain it in an easily understood way? Also no. Did these trips to the labs often end with her metal hand clamped around his beak, hissing at him and calling him names? No, well, yes. Yes, it did.

… he was supposed to be going somewhere with this, but he wasn’t quite sure where. Wait, no, now he remembered. 

If he wanted to someday be the one hatching the schemes, he should watch how others hatched theirs first. It was like watching the prizefighter in the ring to learn how to beat him. Some people would only hit you if you asked them for anything, so you had to watch how they did something instead.

Most of the other scientists ignored him, and he didn’t pay them much attention either. But today, a duck in a red hat waved at them as he and Heron stepped inside the lab.

“Oh, hello! I’m Fethry!” The lab coat he was wearing hung loosely on him, clearly meant for a slightly larger bird.

“O-kaaay...?” _Why_ was he expected to care?

A grin was spreading across Heron’s face as she looked the duck up and down. Then she turned her gaze to Steelbeak as she gestured offhandedly at the duck. “Fethry is our new marine specialist. He’ll be working on some of our most _important_ projects.”

Heron… sounded like she was trying to hold back a laugh. What, was this smart guy really good at the jokes? Or did he know a party trick or two?

And what kind of name was Fethry? Might as well have called him “Webby” since he had webbed feet.

“Say, Fethry?” He knew that tone of voice from Heron. He didn’t always know the details of what she was saying, but he knew the sweetly sharpened tone was meant to cut someone down to size.

He felt… lighter, watching that tone be aimed at someone who wasn’t him. Like he was actually in on the joke for once. He also felt the urge to move to safer ground.

Heron’s smile was wide as she continued. “Why don’t you explain to my partner, Steelbeak, what you’re working on? He loves to hear about scientific experiments in great detail. Especially if you use a lot of long words.”

Okay, maybe he _was_ still part of the joke.

Fethry’s eyes widened—he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to widen their eyes like that until Fethry did. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” Heron said in a passable imitation of Fethry’s enthusiasm. Under her breath she added, “Maybe now I can get some real work done.”

Steelbeak’s jaw tightened as she walked away. He refocused his gaze on the red-capped duck, who was all but jumping in place. 

A snort escaped him as he sat down at a table. At least if this pipsqueak tried to clamp his beak, he could just knock him into next week.

“So what are you working on?” This was still more exciting than watching the walls, after all.

Fethry laughed nervously. It had been a while since anyone paid him a significant amount of attention. “Well, at the moment I’m just filling out the request paperwork. But I’m hoping to start an experiment on delaying the eating habits of the crown of thorns starfish.”

“The what?”

“Crown of thorns starfish. It eats coral.”

“And that is?”

“Coral is like…” Fethry scratched his head. He could never remember all the big words like polyps, sessile, and Anthozoa when he needed to. “It’s like skeletons scattered across the seafloor that fish live in.”

“Really? So fish just decide to live in dead bodies.” Sounded fake, but at least it wasn’t boring.

“Well, coral is a skeleton, but it’s also alive. It’s really bad when they do die.”

“So the fish live in alive dead bodies.” This Fethry guy was talking an interesting sort of crazy.

“Skeletons, yes. Called coral. Only these sea stars eat the coral, so the fish have no place to live then.”

“Now, these sea stars start off eating algae. It’s been called the grass of the sea,” he explained before Steelbeak even had to ask. Fethry’s beak scrunched up. “Though I have to say, grass usually tastes much better.”

“How long it takes for the sea stars to go from algae to coral varies. And there’s a lot of these starfish in the ocean. If they made the switch all at once, they could do a lot of damage.”

Huh. For the guy’s first project, it had the makings of a decent scheme. “So… if you could figure out how to make them do it, you could have them eat the fish out of house and home?”

Fethry actually nodded at that. “Or if I could figure out a way to slow it down, I could buy time for the reefs to grow.”

“...huh.” He actually followed most of that. Sure in his mind, coral reefs had a lot more skulls than they normally did. But he got the gist of what Fethry was talking about.

Black Heron hummed as she worked without interruption. Fethry calculated the costs of feeding and housing a small colony of starfish, making sure to show his work. And Steelbeak imagined blackmailing a fishing village with an army of sea stars. Small potatoes when it came to true villainy, but everyone had to start somewhere.

***

It wasn’t one of Heron’s longer science sessions. She tapped at some keys, read some screens, fiddled with some gadgets, and was ready to leave in a couple of hours.

Fethry had remained in the lab, drawing up plans for a sea star’s dream home. They’d need plenty of walking room, he’d said, so he was drawing up little pathway designs. Including one for a yellow brick road.

He started to reach out a hand to Steelbeak… for what, Steelbeak wasn’t sure. His body tensed in defense.

And Fethry must have noticed because he let his hand drop to his side and just smiled instead. “Thanks for listening. I know I kind of ramble.”

Steelbeak waited a few seconds to be sure that Fethry wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. Then he gave a shrug and followed Heron out.

It hadn’t been a hardship. Listening to weird undersea stuff passed the time. It was like catching a documentary on TV, without the meatheads that would grab the remote from you and change the channel to something else.

Black Heron laughed at Fethry as soon as they left the lab. "That guy," was all she managed to say before chuckles overtook her.

Steelbeak scowled. “What? What did he say that was so funny?” Was he the butt of someone else’s joke again? He'd make him go splat, if so.

Heron regained control of herself, but she was still grinning. “He didn’t have to say anything. It’s comical that he’s even here.”

The scowl receded and his brows knit in confusion. “I don’t —”

“You don’t get it, I know. Lucky for you, I’m in a good enough mood to explain. He’s Scrooge McDuck’s nephew. You remember, the guy you were supposed to get out of the arcade?”

“The big guy who wrecked one of my suits?”

“Ugh, no! He was the one wearing a top hat.” A frown flitted across her face, but her good mood was quick to reassert itself. Past failure meant little in the face of such a hilarious triumph.

“He came to us, wanting a job. He has no idea that we’re F.O.W.L. and no idea that we’re working against everything his family stands for. We’re holding him hostage, and he has no clue.” Another peal of laughter escaped Heron.

Steelbeak let out a chuckle as well, now that he was finally in on the joke. "Ahh, I get it. Classic dum-dum. What kind of idiot doesn't know who they're working for?"

The grin on Heron’s face slipped slightly.

"This should go without saying, but I know you so I'll say it anyway. Do not tell Fethry any details of your work, your missions, what we do here. Nada. Nothing."

"Well, duh. I know that. That's why they're called secret missions."

"Steelbeak, I once saw you brag about being a secret agent at a bar to try and get a date."

"And why not! They were cute!"

“And you wonder why your recreational leave is so limited.”

“What?”

“I’m saying dumb boys don’t get a lot of outdoors time.”

“Hey!”

A smirk moved across her face before she continued. “The director wants him to remain utterly oblivious, so secrecy is of the utmost importance. He’s not going to be happy if we have to lock him up or kill him for knowing too much.”

Steelbeak _did not_ reach for his beak. He _did not_ feel the slight dents that remained from trying to punch his own mouth open. “And we’re not just locking him up now, _why_?”

“Because the Ducks are easiest to manage when they think a situation is within their control!” Her voice was raised as decades of thwarted ambitions seeped into her tone.

Steelbeak was unimpressed. He could get just as angry, and he hadn’t needed years to get to that point.

“And what if he does ask what I do here?”

“Why would he ask? You’re hardly about to engage him in some deep conversation, are you?”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes for some reason. “Well, no, but…”

“Oh, for larceny’s sake. If it does come up and you can’t avoid answering the question, just make something up. You’re an agent, do some lying.”

“... yeah, of course. I can do that.”

***

It doesn’t really sink in until later that night, back in his room, how Fethry answered all his questions without calling him, “Stupid.”

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the beginning of what or may not become more. *jazz hands* Like, I have IDEAS, and very little reason to not work on them with quarantine...
> 
> Also, I'm a desert dweller who knows little of the big blue wet thing, so I appreciate Google for all the marine biology stuff. If it's inaccurate, just remember Fethry's self-taught and might have misunderstood something. It's obviously not my fault ;)
> 
> Plus, I'm not going to stress too much about accurate science when I'm writing fanfic for a series where you chew gum to breathe in space.


End file.
